This weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a while. I felt like I was all over Chicago, meeting and hanging out with some really great people. So let me grab my bar receipts to make sure I don’t leave anything out or forget to give credit where credit is due.
I started by grabbing a late dinner and watching the conclusion of a disappointing Stanley Cup game at PJ Clarke’s on State St. in the Gold Coast. While the game was a bummer, the mini-cheeseburgers I had were great. Even more important, though, was the killer vodka martini…double olive, of course.
After dinner, Kait, Becky and I met up with Erin, Alan, Kyle and Rado at Bootleggers, just around the corner from the restaurant. The bar was crowded, but it was a pretty good group to get the night off to a good start.
After leaving Bootleggers, we made a quick trip to the Reagle Beagle to meet up with the rest of our crew (Elias, Mikey, Dana and Skillman). With a name like that, you can’t really be sure what you’re going to get. The bar was slow, which meant we got a good table, but it didn’t do much for me…or anyone else for that matter. The highlight of the night was getting a shot of terrible tequila from a stout Mexican man…who really should have known better when it came to picking a bottle.
It had started to drizzle by the time we left Beagle, making the walk to Social 25 a rough one. Luckily for me, I had Mama Kaitlyn pack me some flip flops in her purse, so my trek was easier then Elias,’ (are you out of practice walking in those pointers?!)
Social 25 was packed. It’s a huge bar that feels pretty trendy, but the music was good and the crowd was pretty friendly. The bartenders, though…not so much. I couldn’t get a drink for about ten minutes, which for anyone who has gone to the bar with me knows I don’t take well to. I moved down the bar to a different bartender and immediately got my drink and a round of shots for Bex, Kait and I. That bartender got a $10 tip. (Okay, a little excessive, but I really wanted to prove a point to the jerk who didn’t pay attention to me.)
The girls and I took over a little corner of the bar where I was able to flirt with a handsome (we think) guy in blue, while everyone else danced and apparently had a photo shoot of me macking on that guy…or rather, him macking on me. Either way, the pictures are funny, and I got his number. J
Saturday morning was a little rough, in particular because I crashed at Kaitlyn’s, meaning I had to wear my scandalous bar dress on the train into Wrigleyville. Did I mention the Cubs had an afternoon game? Poor Bex had to walk with me, in what looked like a terrible walk-o-shame. However, it was nothing a good bloody mary at Salt & Pepper Diner couldn’t fix! The service was terrible, but from what I could tell, it was just our waitress doing a poor job. I’ll definitely head there again, in particular because their banana nut pancakes are amazing.
Becky and I made plans to meet up with Kyle and Alan after their trip to the game, which meant an afternoon in post-game Wrigleyville. It was a new experience, and definitely the best part of the weekend. We donned our new Cubs gear (gotta look legit!) and headed to John Barleycorn. I’ve heard mixed reviews about this bar, but I had a great time there. Becky and I wanted to make 500 new friends, and we just about accomplished it at that bar alone. The people were great, the service was quick and the whole front of the bar opened up, letting a nice breeze in for the whole time we were there. Becky and befriended Burt the bouncer, as well as a couple of Chicago’s finest, and that was quite possibly the high point of our day.
We didn’t have any food at Barleycorn, mostly because Pauly’s Pizza across the street claimed to have famous thin-crust pizza. It was recommended by Burt, and we made two pit stops there during our 6-hour stint at that first bar.
We left John Barleycorn at close to 10 o’clock and headed to Rebel. How did we get there, you may ask? A rickshaw. That’s right. A rickshaw. Alan’s friend Mike owns his own cart, which he attaches to his bike and uses to cart bar go-ers all over the city. Luckily for us, he was willing to give us a lift, which was not only fast and convenient…but something I’ve wanted to do since I got here.
Rebel was alright. The crowd was so-so, so we didn’t stay there for too long. I’m not sure…but my desire to hit up a karaoke bar also may have had something to do with the move.
I never go to sing karaoke, which was a bummer, but the place was packed and a menopausal woman has taken over the stage, leaving no time for me to serenade the crowd. In reality, it was probably in the best interest of everyone involved that I avoid the stage anyway.
A nice waiter bought me a couple of drinks, but then Bex and I decided to call it quits. We hit the 12-hour partying mark at 2 a.m., which seemed like the perfect time to end the evening. Mike the nice rickshaw driver took us back to my place, narrowly avoiding 3 traffic accidents and doing minor damage to only one car in the process. Nice work, Mike!
All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a better weekend. Not only did I get to experience some parts of Chicago that I had not seen yet, I was able to see some good friends and relive some of our crazy CMU days for a weekend.
It really doesn’t get much better than that.
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